Inquest into the passing of Joshua Kerr

Dear Coroner Ryan,

As I stand here before you today, my heart is heavy with grief and my soul is wounded and burdened not only by the loss of my son, but also the injustice of his death. My name is Aunty Donnis Kerr, and I am the mother of Joshua Steven James Kerr-Thorpe, a proud Gunaikurnai, Yorta Yorta man who tragically lost his life the same way too many of our mob have died – locked away in a prison cell. Josh was only 32 years old.

I am still deeply connected to Josh, even though he has passed away. I can still hear and feel Josh every day and night. Not everyone understands Aboriginal culture and our ways of being, and how we have a spiritual connection to those who have passed. And it hurts my heart to know that Josh’s spirit and my spirit cannot rest until we get justice for my boy.

The last time I saw my son Josh was at his Uncle Brucy’s funeral and he was in prison shackles. Before he got into the van taking him back to his cell, Josh turned to me and said, ‘I love you mum’. I said to him ‘I love you too, son – I’ll see you when you come out’. ‘Yeah mum, I’ll come home’. We had the biggest cuddle. I would never have believed that they would be our last words and the last time I saw him alive.

As I sit here, playing back the memories of my beloved boy, I cannot help but feel the deep pain of a mum who has been denied the right to see her child grow old. Josh was more than just a statistic, more than a number or just a name on a court document – he was my son, he was a father, a brother, an uncle, and a cherished member of our family and community. He loved his sisters, Patricia and Maggie.

Josh's life was troubled by a broken system that failed to protect him from harm and neglect. From the moment he entered this world, he was caught in a cycle of trauma and despair, a cycle that ultimately led to his death.

The pain of losing Josh is one thing, but it is so much harder when I know that he cried out for help in his last moments, and that no one cared to help him. He deserved better – he deserved better care and better treatment. No one should have to die that way.

As I reflect on Josh's life, I remember his resilience, his strength, and his care and love for his family. Despite everything he faced, he stayed strong and wanted to build a better life for himself and his children. He was a talented artist, and he would be decorating our communities with his art today if he were alive.

With him not here anymore I am left with a hole in my heart that can never be filled. I would give anything to hear his laughter, his silly jokes, and his big bear hugs and cuddles. He brought such joy to our home. But within all the pain and sadness, I have hope that Josh's death will not be in vain, and it will make change so others don’t die the way he did, and that other families don't feel the deep loss we are feeling. I hope that his memory will live on in our community.

I ask you, Coroner Ryan, to listen to our family and to all the other Aboriginal mothers, fathers, brothers, and sisters who have had their loved ones die in a system that has failed them time and time again. Josh's death cannot be swept under the rug or forgotten – it must be a wake-up call to all those in power who can make a difference and keep our children and loved ones safe.

My family and I demand justice for Josh, for all the Aboriginal mothers who have lost their children, for all the Aboriginal families torn apart by senseless deaths. Our children deserve better, our communities deserve better, and we will not rest until justice is served.

I urge you to remember Josh's story, to honour his memory, and to do everything in your power to bring an end to Black deaths in custody. The time for action is now.

Thank you for listening to me - as you go away and write your findings, we ask that you please remember our voices.

Sincerely,

Aunty Donnis Kerr